


In Your Hands

by Kyn_Moonlight (Kyn_Moonligjt)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: ATA Gene, Feelings Realization, Gen, M/M, Post episode: The Cloister, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:41:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23266381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyn_Moonligjt/pseuds/Kyn_Moonlight
Summary: After John’s experiences in The Cloister, several science departments want to learn more about ATA abilities, using him as a test subject. That makes him realize why Rodney is hisfavoritescientist.
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 77





	In Your Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Going through some old Stargate:Atlantis fics to re-post, I fount this bit I never posted. I’d originally planned this as a long story about the ATA Gene and hands-on healing abilities, ‘The Power Is In Your Hands’ but never got further than a set up scene/introduction from John’s perspective. At this point, honestly, it never will. 
> 
> Re-reading it now, I think it stands on it’s own pretty well as just a short exploration where John realizes that Rodney’s attitude toward him and his feelings about Rodney weren’t as superficial or ‘just professional’ as they’d assumed. But, like the original title, the power to change that is in his hands.

It was all the fault of the Anthro department, John mused. Maybe not entirely their fault, but they definitely started it all.

After John had come back from his forced absence in the cloister/sanctuary, the anthropologists had been predictably fascinated to find out that people who they didn’t think were genetically related to the Ancients were capable of ascension, and not only that, actually began to develop some of the “gifts” of the Ancients after generations as well.

Inevitably, that set them off on more research about ascension and Ancients’ gifts, like healing and ‘visions’ though they called them something suitable pseudo-scientific like advance-cognitive perception, and so on. John took to avoiding them all whenever possible, because they’d corner him asking questions for hours, about the kinds of meditation the people there were doing, and how it was supposed to help them progress toward ascension, or wanting to hear all about all of Teer’s visions.

For the first, John really didn’t know. All the instruction he’d gotten was “now we meditate,” and learned by observation that it involved extended periods of sitting still and being quiet, which were pretty much the antithesis of John’s existence. He could be very quiet, and very still, but usually only in short bursts while he avoided enemy patrols and figured out the best plan of attack. Quiet and stillness were always secondary to the reason for that enforced inactivity. If he wasn’t _doing_ something, he was getting ready _to do_ something. He’d been able to achieve, eventually, brief periods of stillness of the mind, which they all assured him was the desired outcome, but as to how that was really supposed to help with anything other than temporarily relieving stress and adding to his long-term frustration, he had no clue.

 _Then_ biology and medical had gotten in on the deal and decided that if people not genetically related to the Ancients could manifest some of their more unusual abilities, then people with the gene should definitely be able to as well. And of course, with John’s other skills involving the use of the ATA, he was a favorite candidate for tests, because just like with the tech devices they found, it was hard to tell if something didn’t work for one person in particular or just didn’t work at all.

But John had no real desire to be a healer and especially had a sincere lack of desire to have prophetic visions, because even if they might, theoretically, be a handy thing for knowing about possible dangers in advance, his own sense of realism and an imagination borne of far too much experience showing him how bad things could go was more than enough without the certain fatal hopeless pre-destination of genuine visions confirming them.

Being able to move things with your mind was a tempting gift, but after actually trying it for hours on end with supposedly expert scientific supervision and advice, he figured actually moving them physically was probably easier anyhow, and less likely to cause headaches.

McKay was, predictably, skeptical and while John was relieved to be spared non-stop rants expressing that skepticism when Rodney chose to avoid most of the research and testing the “lesser” sciences were inflicting on him, he found he occasionally missed having their resident genius around when science was on the menu. Granted, McKay could be high-handed and irritable, slinging insults and nearly-incomprehensible techno-babble with equal ease, but when John used to be his ATA lab-rat and asked “less-than-completely-moronic” questions, Rodney would, more often than not, actually slow down to near-human speeds and explain things to him in a way that somehow managed to sound both like he was put out to be simplifying things to a kindergarten level and that he couldn’t be bothered to simplify things at all. Oddly enough, though, he still managed to explain things in a way that John understood them. Or, well, nearly understood.

The Anthro people had the tendency to react with frowns and exclamations of “Really?” then look at each other meaningfully and wander off to discuss things together, leaving John out completely. While he wasn’t all that interested in the anthropological impact of pseudo-ancient abilities, even Rodney treated him better than a convenient artifact that he might briefly notice was also alive and, thank you, sentient. In fact, seeing how more of the scientific staff interacted with someone who was supposedly “absolutely vital to this indispensable research, Colonel,” he began to realize that Rodney was practically coddling by comparison.

The research and experimentation with healing touch, though, were the first time he’d seen Beckett happy about having the ATA gene, and actually anxious to be able to use one of it’s abilities. He was happy to see Carson get some joy and hope out of it. They’d had some extremely limited and unreliable success with that one, actually. Some minor injuries they’d focused on putting right showed an increased speed in healing of a few percent, and some of their test volunteers reported lessening of pain and other symptoms.

Bio-Med showed more concern for his comfort and well-being, but even so, it took the form of closely monitored physiological readings than actual personal consideration. None of them ever stopped their work with a glazed look of anticipation and asked him “Do you think they’ll have that chocolate-like cake-thing today?” which in Rodney-speak meant “I’m getting hungry, how about you?” or looked at him skeptically for a few minutes before saying “Could you at least TRY to pay attention here? I realize this is beyond your limited intellect and attention span since it doesn’t involve blowing anything up, but it is… You know, never mind. I’m sure you have some mindless military paperwork, or drills or whatever that you need to get back to. What? Are you still here? Go, go already!” John used to think that meant “I’m so frustrated with your incompetence that I need you out of my sight,” but was starting to suspect, based on Rodney’s lack of hesitance to say exactly that when he meant any other time, and the other scientists’ complete obliviousness to the fact that he might need or even want be doing _his_ equally important and fulfilling job instead of _theirs_ , could possible actually mean “I realize you’re an important member of this expedition with responsibilities of your own and am grateful you took this much time away from them to help me out, but I should let you get back to them now.”

John looked up at the blinking lights that were supposed to be metering alpha waves or somatic patterns or some medical blather about the state of meditation he was supposed to be in. “Hey,” he called out to the nearest tech, who looked surprised the convenient artifact was speaking. “Need a bathroom break, here.”

Before the man could protest, John was pulling the little sticky-pads off his scalp, chest and ankles, hopefully without taking too much hair with them, and waving off the almost-polite, almost-firm inquiries about how soon they could resume their testing with an entirely firm and polite-sounding but altogether not polite excuse about an afternoon supply run to the mainland he’d forgotten about.

Out in the corridor, absently rubbing the gummy residue off his forehead with one thumb, he went back over what he’d just realized. One: he understood what Rodney was saying even when he wasn’t saying it. Two: Rodney explained things with relative patience for his benefit, cared about him as a person and friend, not just labware, and actually respected him and his job. Three: the feeling was not only mutual, but might be approaching ‘more than friends’ territory. Four: he’d just walked past his corridor and was heading towards McKay’s lab… because… Five: he missed Rodney, missed spending time with him and really wanted to see him. And Six: Eeew, gummy residue. It was probably in his hair too!

Damn. He knew this meditation and self-awareness stuff was trouble.

\--


End file.
